Next Morning
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: A bit of fluff in a one-shot. What would it really be like for these two on the morning after their first, and necessarily marathon, coupling? Especially on a workday. Rated a strong "T" for situations and a little language. Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.


Patrick Jane rolled over in the tangled sheets. He made it about half way when his body rang the alarm bells. His back muscles seemed frozen solid and dared him to move another inch. He let out a strained "Eoorf er er argh!" It hurt just as much to roll back as to keep moving. So he was frozen on his side with his arm fast going numb underneath him.

He didn't want to call out to Lisbon. How would that look? All stove up from a night of intense love. Never mind that he hadn't had a strenuous marathon session like that since . . . since when? Six weeks after the birth of his daughter, maybe? Actually, except for the one, rather tame, interlude with Lorelei, he hadn't had any love session at all since his marriage. All the muscles he hadn't used in years had set a siege of immediate revenge.

Maybe if he moved just his legs he could hang them over the bed and rise like Frankenstein's monster from his reanimating slab. Oh! Oh, oh, oh! No! His hips and buttocks didn't want him to go anywhere either. Flopping like a dying fish, trying to regain his natural place in the environment. Upright, dammit! Walking! It was a workday! If he didn't figure something out, the woman lying next to him would wake up and see him in this weak state, brought low by a night of fucking her brains out. Well, she fucked his, so they were even! He'd better check to see if she was awake yet. They had to get going.

Patrick tried to turn his head to look at Teresa Lisbon. Well, at least his neck worked. Maybe if he treated it like yoga and just stretched by millimeters he could shift his shoulders and they would take his neck and head with them. That seemed to work.

Teresa opened her eyes and looked at Patrick. Why was he craning his neck like that? He closed his eyes, let out a breath he had been squeak-holding and turned back. She wanted a morning hug and kiss. Maybe they had time for a little . . .

"Owwwwwwwwww!" All she had done was lift her arm and rolled towards him. Her stomach muscles had seized her lower back into some kind of butt lock. She decided to use her legs to pull herself closer to Patrick, but then her inner thighs screamed. Her entire saddle and rear end, stretched to its limits by vigorous lovemaking through the night, was shouting its growing pains. She could hear Patrick laughing, his body shaking the bed.

"What's so funny, Patrick?" She decided she could manage a little kick if she did it only from the knee down. She connected with the back of his thigh.

"Ow! Ow, Lisbon! My muscles hurt. Don't do that!"

"Get up! We have to get ready for work."

"You, first."

There was no way Teresa was going to be able to climb over him to get out of bed. Maybe if she used mostly her arms to push, she could scoot her bottom off the end. Her upper arms ached a little, but the plan worked. Then she stood up. Well, halfway. "Aaaaarghh! Dammit, Jane!" She put her hands to her hips to try and support upright walking. It didn't quite work.

"Me? How is it me? You're the one climbed me like a tree and wouldn't let me up for hours while you had your monkey way with me!"

"You have a very selective memory. I seem to recall hours of being wrapped around your waist to keep from being pinned to the mattress like a science lab frog!"

"Well, you seemed to like my pin."

"Yes, well, you're very good at using it."

"Thank you, Teresa."

"Shut up, Patrick."

"Lisbon?"

Back to last names now? It must be something serious. Teresa walked, still bent, to Patrick's side of the bed. He hadn't shifted position from his side at all. She watched him eye her bouncing breasts and saw his bad boy move.

"Need some help here, Lisbon."

At first she thought he was making a play for more sex. But he was too still.

"You can't move, can you?"

"Not really, no."

"And you're laying there, getting a hard on?"

"It's involuntary. You have beautiful breasts, and I want them."

"Well, they're not coming to you." She turned to head to the shower. Maybe some hot water would loosen her up enough to walk upright. Being half bent over was it's own strain to her upper back, so she bent further to take the pressure off.

"You're still really pink in there!"

"Jane! Stop looking!"

"Well, it's right in front of me, looking so sweet and hot pink. I want it, too."

"You're not getting it! I'm going to take a shower, get under some hot water. I'll help you when I get out."

Patrick listened to Teresa puff and mutter and squeak, getting ready for her shower. They would be too late if he didn't get up and moving. Besides, it would be better if she didn't see this part. He managed to half slide and half roll off the bed to his hands and knees. Carefully, using the bed stand for support, Patrick straightened himself, stood upright and took his first steps of the day. He stiff-walked slowly to the bathroom as Teresa was starting the water for her shower. He'd get in there with her and maybe the hot water would thaw them both out. And he could wrap his bad boy into that hot pink hug.

Teresa watched him come towards her, stiff-legged and semi-erect. "What do you think you're doing there, Patrick?'"

"If we shower together, maybe we won't be late."

"Okay, Frankenstein. Get in. And no funny business."

"It's Frankentstein's monster, Lisbon. And you're not being very nice."

"I'll just call you Frankie."

The hot water did seem to help some, but not enough to restore the full function Patrick was hoping for. "It's not helping enough. I still can hardly move."

"Well. that muscle seems to be working, Frankie."

Patrick moved closer to rub his major stiffie against her.

"No! Get that away from me!"

"Please, Teresa, put your hand on me and I'm going to think how pink you are."

His words were a flare against her nether regions. She pulled his hand to them and then put both of hers on him.

…sossossossos…

The hot water was a nice temporary solution, but it wore off rather quickly. At least they were both ambulatory. Aside from the stiffness, sudden movement could bring a shock wave. They were headed into the CBI building from the parking lot.

"You're walking funny."

Teresa knew it was true. It seemed like her thighs wouldn't relax and close together all the way and the stiffness in her hips forced her to walk with her ass stuck out a little too far.

"You're one to talk, Frankie. But you did camouflage that bolt in your neck rather well."

"Ha ha. What we need is more exercise."

"Well, it will have to wait until tonight."

"Oh." He looked as if he was going to kiss her! "I love that you thought of THAT kind of exercise."

"All right. Down, boy. This is work."

"I wonder if rabbits ever feel like this the next morning."

Teresa rolled her eyes and walked a little faster to get ahead of Patrick. It wasn't difficult. She called over a shoulder, "Wait and take the next elevator after mine." Subterfuge. She didn't have much hope for it.

"Hey, Boss!" Grace Van Pelt looked up from her computer. She'd wondered when Lisbon would get in. Usually Boss was the first to work. She saw Jane trail in a few minutes later, cup and saucer in hand and heading for his couch. All was right with the w-. Wow. Jane was not getting around too well. "Hey, Jane. You all right? You pull something?"

"Yeah, sort of. But I'm fine, thanks."

"Well, let me know if I can help with something."

"Sure will. I'm just going to have my cuppa right now."

After awhile Lisbon came out of her office to show Grace a file. Rigsby and Cho were at their desks.

Cho said, "You're walking funny. You okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Just slept wrong I guess."

"Hunh."

Lisbon doubted Cho was buying any of it. But at least he wouldn't know who the culprit was.

Jane was having a little trouble with his teacup. Even his hand ached. How could his hand be sore? He went a little pink with the realization. Oh. Well. He set the cup in its saucer and stretched his fingers. His right hand had probably got as vigorous a workout as his-. He looked up to stop his train of thought and found Cho studying him.

"Hurt your hand?"

"Sort of."

"Hunh."

Lisbon dropped the file she was discussing with Van Pelt. Damn! Her hands and even her wrists were tender! Bending to retrieve the file went fine, but straightening back up felt like a sledgehammer on the top of her hip. "Dammit, Jane!" She froze, and then rose slowly while trying to think how to frame the remark, an obvious giveaway of timing, to make innocent sense. Of course her bright red face helped nothing.

Rigsby was staring at her slack-jawed. He was trying very hard not to get it.

Grace's mouth opened in a wide "O" of realization and she quickly clapped a hand over it. Her wide eyes searched first Lisbon and then Jane.

The guilty pair looked at each other, tense with hope that the other had something ready to go that would cover them. There was nothing. Lisbon decided on a different tack.

"All right. I don't know what you think you know. But I don't expect any member of this team to be the subject of gossip by any other member of the team. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Boss" was heard all around.

Lisbon threw up her hands, made a sound of exasperation and headed for the protected confines of her office. The whole team knew, and it was only ten o'clock the next morning!

All three of his colleagues turned to Jane on the couch. He groaned low in his chest and put a forearm across his eyes, blocking them out.

Cho spoke up. "All right. Spill."

"No way, Cho. You heard the boss. Butt out."

"Hunh." Cho turned back to the desk, a sly smile decorating his usually stone face.

Van Pelt desperately signaled to Rigsby to meet her in the break room. Rigsby vigorously shook his head no, no, no.

"You, too, Grace."

She dropped her shoulders and tutted under her breath.

Underneath his forearm, Jane rolled his eyes. Well, at least that's out of the way.


End file.
